She never would have guessed it by Emory’s sheer confidence, the potent energy he carried around him like a cloak, but she saw it now: a little boy who’d been broken and pieced back together a little differently than everyone else. A teenager who’d been left behind. A man who’d been alone for a very long time.
Just like me.
Sure, she’d always had her sister and her parents, but when she knew they craved a life not held down by her restrictions, it often felt like she was standing by herself in a crowded room, pretending everything was okay.
Emory rested his cheek against the crown of her head when he replied, “I’m not fit for pod life anymore. Too much posturing. Dominance games bore me, and I don’t like big, bickering groups. But I used to wish I was with them.”
“I used to wish I was normal, too,” she confessed. “I used to dream about waking up one day and not being able to hear any thoughts. Not having extra lessons with tutors my parents paid in cash to keep quiet and no more pain from all thenoise.I wanted to be around people, to be seen by people, but I pretended I didn’t need any of that because it was easier. On me. On my parents and my sister.”
A soft, whistling note filled the air. She had no idea what it meant in Emory’s language, but it felt like sympathy.
He rubbed his cheek against her hair as his words drifted on a sigh. “I was lucky to have my father. He put up with my rages and my tears when my mother and siblings would leave the cove. When I couldn’t even force myself out of bed, he brought me meals, bathed me, sat and read books to me. I learned all I know about technology from that time, when he would tell me the things he learned from stolen ship manuals.” He swallowed hard. “Those were awful days, but I miss them.”
Clementine wasn’t sure what courage compelled her then, but she found herself pressing her lips against the curve of his shoulder when she whispered, “Tell me about him, please.”
That was how they ended up talking until light streaked across the floor in splashes of gold and strawberry pink. Clementine began to drift off to sleep in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor as Emory crooned to her in his lilting voice, his claws sifting through her hair. He told her stories about a gentle, bearded man who didn’t speak much and the fierce merwoman who’d loved him to her dying breath.
“Emory…”His name was barely a whisper.
Soft lips swept back and forth over her cheek. “Sleep, my mate.”
She couldn’t keep her eyes open. They felt weighed down by sandbags whenever she tried to blink. Still, she turned her head blindly, seeking out those gentle lips. It was only being on the edge of sleep that gave her the nerve to kiss him.
Breathing the words against his lips, she confessed, “This has been the best night of my life. I don’t want it to end.”
“I promise you, this is not the end.” Oddly textured hands cupped her cheeks. Emory kissed her once, twice, and a third time, each one barely more than a brush of his lips against hers, before he gently eased her head back onto the pillow. A moment later, a heavy body settled down behind her.
Clementine’s breath caught as an arm snaked around her waist to pull her flush against his front. Emory’s tail curved around her, fitting perfectly into the curve of her bent knees. His breath stirred her hair and his other arm slipped under her neck to clasp her shoulders. He held her tightly, like he worried someone might snatch her from him while they slept, but she didn’t mind.
Her last thought before she succumbed to sleep was that it was awfully nice being held like she was something worth keeping.
ChapterFourteen
His kind did not sleeplike many land dwellers. Merfolk tended to take their rest in small shifts, mostly during the day, when they could bask on sunbaked rock or in a well-insulated cove after a successful night of hunting.
Most trading with humans happened near dawn, when merfolk came to the docks with their satchels full of fine abalone, urchin, or other treasures the land dwellers coveted. It was at that moment between night and day that the treaty that kept their people at peace seemed far away.
For about an hour every day they were friends, business partners, rather than predators eyeing one another from across a watery divide. Aside from hunting down illegal fishing operations and trespassers, trading and seeking out the rare healer who offered their services to merfolk were the only times when the two people frequently interacted.
Normally, Emory swam to the docks about once a week with his catch. He traded urchin, since the flat seabed around Demon’s Tooth was home to some of the finest specimens in the entirety of Grim’s Bay. Every time he went, he earned far more than he needed for basic supplies. His cove was well-stocked with food and comforts, as well as all the trinkets he’d collected just for fun over the years.
He thought of all those things as he lay with his mate in their makeshift bed. He’d only slept a handful of hours, but he was rested and his heart over-full.
Never in all his life did he consider what a pleasure it would be to find a mate who was so sweet. He’d felt the driving need to claim her, to mount her, to twine their lives together, but he hadn’t considered how good it would feel to simplyknowher.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had as much fun as they had. When he tried to remember when he’d last laughed until his sides ached, he came up blank. There was only rolling on the floor with Clementine, who wept with laughter when they both got what she calledbrain freezefrom eating ice cream too fast.
It was silly and fun and wonderful. She never laughed at him, but rather seemed to find delight in almost everything he did. Clementine buzzed around him, excited to show him new things and experience her favorites with him, her joy an almost visible aura around her. Not once did she make him feel like his fitness was being tested. Not once did she laughathim. Not once did she run, or bite, or refuse to share her food.
His mate was all glowing warmth, beckoning him in without hesitation or reservation.
When the night wore on and the giggles died away, they’d shared the secrets of mates: old hurts, fears, stories of the past that were both good and painful. By the time they fell asleep wrapped up in one another, he felt Clementine’s warmth in his chest.
For the first time in decades, Emory did not dream of dark water and gaping, ghostly mouths tugging at rotting flesh.
He dreamed of her.
When he woke, the first stirrings of true affection, the love of a lifemate, was a new weight on his heart. It was an anchor that steadied him, one that kept him from being swept back into the cold deep of a solitary life.
